


heavy as a feather

by in_quick_of_grace



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Fatherhood, Gen, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Parenthood, Single Parents, mild jeongcheol if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-03 16:37:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14000217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/in_quick_of_grace/pseuds/in_quick_of_grace
Summary: “I’m going to be a father.”Jihoon sat straight up, eyes open wide. Minghao sat up, Mingyu and Wonwoo pulled themselves into sitting positions, and Hansol’s jaw dropped.“Hyung,” Chan responded shakily, keeping his voice as calm as he could. “Explain.”the fic where Seungcheol becomes a father, and learns that sometimes a family is 13 dads and a baby.(title taken from First by Cold War Kids)





	heavy as a feather

**Author's Note:**

> hi friends hello  
> this is my first fic i've ever written for SEVENTEEN, and therefore my first time trying to write with honorifics. i did my best to research everything in advance and beta the parts i'm unfamiliar with, but if i've messed up something major, let me know and i'll fix it.  
> this work is also part of a larger series i'm working on where members of SEVENTEEN become fathers. each story will be set in a different universe, independent from each other. i hope you enjoy!

Seungcheol was quiet that evening.

He was never excessively loud to begin with, but he always took command during their evening meetings in the living room when they discussed their rehearsals from that day, always asked Jihoon what they needed to do to make recording smoother on him for the days ahead. Seungcheol was the one to pull in the reins when the boys got too rowdy making jokes, the one to hold hands when they became vulnerable with each other.

But tonight, he was silent.

Their evening meeting ran longer than expected, and it was up to Jeonghan and Jun to keep them together, keep them alert as the hours dwindled into the morning and focused on their goals ahead with their upcoming comeback. The living room was undecorated by accident--they weren’t in the dorm long enough to develop nesting tendencies, and they spent most of their time in their bedrooms anyway--but the bare off-white walls and uncarpeted hardwood floors at such a late hour made the whole group feel as though they were about to fall into a liminal space. 

Jihoon was struggling to stay conscious as his head kept drooping and his whole body threatened to fall forward into sleep. Minghao was curled against Hansol, and Seungkwan was sprawled out with his head in Hansol’s lap. Soonyoung and Seokmin were sat with backs against the wall, heads leaning against each other; meanwhile Mingyu and Wonwoo were sprawled out on their stomachs, Mingyu’s head lolling toward Jeonghan’s lap. Seungcheol stayed near the edge of the circle, far from the center where he normally presides.

Jun looked around the room from the center where he sat. “Anything else we need to cover?” Those still awake shook their heads ‘no’, while everyone else failed to respond. “All right, then I think we’re do-”

“I have an announcement,” Seungcheol said, his voice barely above a whisper. Jun turned to look at the boy who had been silent all night, sitting in the corner wringing his hands. He offered his spot in the middle, and Seungcheol slowly scooted toward his usual sitting place.

Those who were nearing slumber pulled themselves awake (or were nudged awake, according to the yelp that rose from Minghao), and all eyes were on Seungcheol.

He dragged a hand down his face and sighed, looking at his watch. 1:43 AM. He tried to breathe through the butterflies in his stomach, in, out, in, out. 

“I, uh,” his voice cracked and he coughed. “I’ll keep this brief, but…” He swallowed the fear bubbling up in his throat, and scratched the back of his neck. Jeonghan’s eyes were on him, concern weaving its way into his scrunched eyebrows. Seungcheol settled himself, forcing himself to stay grounded so they could go to bed. Jihoon was already falling asleep again.

“I’m going to be a father.”

Jihoon sat straight up, eyes open wide. Minghao sat up, Mingyu and Wonwoo pulled themselves into sitting positions, and Hansol’s jaw dropped.

“Hyung,” Chan responded shakily, keeping his voice as calm as he could. “Explain.”

The story came out in semi-coherent chunks; a train ride back home for Christmas break, a reunion with old friends, a few glasses of wine, stumbling into his tiny bedroom in the family home with his best friend from childhood, a phone call two days ago. 

“We used protection and all but…” Seungcheol scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t know what to do. She’s said she’ll keep it. I offered to move in, to help take care of it but she wants to do it on her own. I figured...I figured you should know, since we’re, y’know.”

Jisoo’s hand rubbed small circles between Seungcheol’s shoulder blades, but other than the faint swishing of Seungcheol’s shirt, the room was dead silent.

It was Jeonghan who finally broke the silence, clearing his throat. “You know we’re here for you. We’ll do anything you need us to.” The rest of the boys nodded in agreement, and Seungcheol wanted to cry.

“When’s the baby due?” Mingyu asked. Everyone’s voice was measured, soft, as if they were avoiding waking the metaphorical baby in the room. 

Seungcheol pursed his lips, shook the hair out of his eyes. “September, I believe. After all of our heavy promotion. I’ll at least get to meet the baby when it’s born.”

The room fell silent again for a while, but no one was on the edge of sleep. The questions that churned in everyones’ minds were all but bubbling out of them. Anger bubbled in the pit of Seungcheol’s stomach at everyone’s kindness and reservation. 

“Listen, I know I was irresponsible--”

“Stop,” Hansol interjected. His voice was soft, gentle. 

“No, it was a bad idea--”

“It’s not like you could’ve predicted what would happen,” Wonwoo added.

Seungcheol pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes. “No, let me finish. I’m sorry--”

“Hyung.” It was Chan’s voice that rang out loudest. He crawled out from under Soonyoung’s arms, and scooted his way toward Seungcheol, gently setting a hand on his knee. “Yeah, this situation isn’t the most ideal. But it happened. You have us to help you out--and from what it sounds like, she doesn’t want you super involved anyway. You’ll be okay.”

Seungcheol kept the heels of his hands dug into his eyes, refusing to let tears fall. His chest was tight, his whole body trembling, and he felt like everything was crashing down on top of him. It wasn’t until he felt breathing on his neck, hands resting on his back, and a pair of hands pulling his own fists away from his eyes that he realized he might be okay. Seokmin held his hands, keeping them down so he could look him in the eyes while Jisoo brushed a tear off Seungcheol’s cheek.

“Besides,” Seokmin offered with a half smile. “You have great experience with us kids anyway.”

****

It was shortly after their new album was released, just a few days after they did light touring in Korea, that Seungcheol was called upon for a doctor’s appointment. Kwon Minji met him in the lobby of the doctor’s office in their hometown, arms folded over the slightest bump of a belly. Any passerby could have easily assumed she was simply carrying a large bowl of ramen from lunch. She had always been tiny, so much smaller than Seungcheol; he figured it would be a long while before she began to show a pregnancy. 

“Minji ae-in,” Seungcheol breathed, arms opened for her, but she simply bowed her head toward him, a frown set in her small lips. 

“They say we have a few minutes’ wait.” Her response was curt, to the point, and she perched herself on a hard blue plastic chair on the far side of the room. He trailed after her, sitting two chairs away from her, and pretended to go through messages on his phone. 

Minji had been his best friend since primary school. Their parents made them hold hands as they walked to school every morning; they swapped portions of food at lunch that they didn’t want, watched cartoons together on weekends. Seungcheol told her about his first kiss--an alto in choir, in the music room after class when he was 16--and while she laughed about it then, when she rejected his advances later, Minji was at his house with bubble tea and held his hand while he cried. They used to joke about buying houses next to each other when they were old with kids, but they never once thought about each other being their life partner, never dreamed of raising a child together.

The appointment went by in a blur. Minji was unfazed as the doctor lifted her shirt, exposing her to the chilly air, smearing gel on her stomach and taking an ultrasound. Seungcheol tried to hold her hand, and while she swatted away the first attempt, she let him caress her limp fingers in his own. She was never like this. They held hands all the time, even while she had a boyfriend for the last two years of high school. 

A flash of white appeared amidst a black sea on screen, and something in Minji’s face lifted, even if for a moment. As the doctor repositioned the wand over her stomach, the baby came into focus, a little amalgamation of fingers and toes.

Her fingers squeezed around Seungcheol’s hand, and his heart stopped, just for a moment. 

“Your baby looks healthy, all seems well.” She smiled at them, and when Seungcheol gave Minji an encouraging smile, she didn’t meet his eyes. She let the doctor clean her stomach, help her off the table, pulled her coat off a hook on the unnaturally white wall, and walked the two of them out. Seungcheol tried to hold her hand in the waiting room when they checked out, but she kept shrugging him off. As soon as they set foot outside the clinic, she turned to him, giving him a shove on the shoulder.

“Ow!”

“What are you doing?” She hissed. 

Seungcheol shook his head. “Wha--”

“I don’t know what kind of joke you’re trying to pull, but we’re not in love. We’re just friends. I don’t know why you think it’s okay to hold my hand, call me sweetheart--”

“Well I’m sorry that I’m trying to take care of the woman carrying my child.” Seungcheol shot back. She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes, letting out a deep breath through her nostrils. The wind blew past them, pulling her hair to the front of her face, and pushing his behind him. 

“Cheol,” She said softly, and his heart ached at his pet name. Jiji and Cheol, inseparable since they were seven years old. Seventeen years later, and they’re still inseparable, even if only by circumstance, by the literal amalgamation of the two of them fused together.

She lowered her hands, looked him in the eyes with tear-rimmed eyes. He forced himself to stay put, tucked his hands in his pockets as the chilly late February air blew around them in front of a clinic, the usually bustling streets of Daegu empty in the early morning. She shivered, and it took everything in him not to wrap his coat around her shoulders like he did when they were in school, when she was too stubborn to wear her coat but complained about the cold the whole way there.

“This isn’t how it was supposed to happen, you know?” She gave him a half smile, and rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. “You,” She cleared her throat of what could’ve been a sob, and shrugged her shoulders. “You weren’t supposed to be my kids’ dad. You were supposed to be my best man when I got married, whether my husband liked it or not. You were supposed to be Uncle Cheollie, who took my kids to do stupid, dangerous things that their dad wouldn’t dare think about, in case I got mad.”

Seungcheol felt his throat closing his up, watched Minji get blurry around the edges as his eyes filled with tears, heard her own voice start to choke up.

“And I was supposed to be your kids’ crazy auntie who gossiped about grown up things, the one who got your kids hooked on dramas at age 5. I wanted to teach your daughter to swear at boys who didn’t respect her.” Minji haphazardly swiped at her tears with a coat sleeve, sniffed back any mucus that threatened to fall out of her nostrils. “How am I supposed to be the fun auntie when I’ve got to be the mom? How am I supposed to find the love of my life when I have a child with someone else?”

Seungcheol stared at his shoes, scuffed his toes against the ground to fill the silence with a dull scraping. 

“You’re not in love with me, are you?” Minji asked, and Seungcheol felt his face burn.

“No--no, of course not. But I love you. I’ve always loved you, Jiji. You can’t just act like having a child with your best friend is nothing.” 

She sighed, her knees starting to knock together in the cold wind. Seungcheol looped an arm gently around her shoulders, and walked her to the bus stop. Their footsteps filled the silence on the way to the bus stop and the whole scene felt too familiar, if you had rewinded eight years and traded skinny jeans and tunics for school uniforms, added book bags filled with coursework, and swapped eye bags of exhaustion for puffy eyes from staying up too late chatting over kakaotalk.

“Cheol,” Minji filled the silence after a few minutes of waiting. “You’re still my best friend, ya know?”

“I mean, yeah. I know--”

“But I need you to understand that’s all you’ll ever be.”

****

Seungcheol hadn’t thought in detail about having a child someday, but he knew he didn’t imagine it like this. He knew Minji wanted to do this on her own without Seungcheol needing to feel like a father, but being in the dark about his child left him feeling gutted, sliced open like a rockfish left out on a line to dry. He only went on one doctor’s appointment with her; she never asked him about baby names, or a visitation schedule, or literally anything about the future of his child. 

Summer crept upon them, draping over them like a heavy blanket that no one enjoys sleeping under, but they drift into half slumber anyway. He took his mind off of Minji for a while as they toured their way through Taiwan, stopping through Tokyo for a few nights and Hong Kong for a bit as well. 

In their downtime, Seungcheol found ways to keep his mind busy. He bought a handful of adult coloring books and a box of crayons, and stayed up coloring through pages of mandalas and owls and struggling to make a sharp point with a crayon for the more intricate linework. He taught himself basic music theory with the help of YouTube, and helped Jihoon write a bridge in a song he was dabbling with. Hansol challenged him to a rap battle in the dorm one night, and while Seungcheol knew his way around a G Dragon song, once Hansol put Kendrick Lamar on, it was all over. When they got off tour, he went on multiple ramen dates with Jihoon and Wonwoo--both of them caring, but knowing when not to ask questions--and talked about books, music, anime, dogs, anything to busy his mind.

Somewhere deep in him, he knew he needed to be talking about these things. He still hadn’t told his parents about his impending fatherhood, even though they love Minji and would be thrilled about grandkids. Even though he’d be willing to step up if Minji let him, there’s something so...permanent about accepting such a role. He spent nights tossing and turning, probably frustrating Jihoon to no end over his restlessness, but he was plagued with thoughts of any and all illnesses that ran through the family--any negative thing that he had that could be passed on to his child. 

They all did their best to tiptoe around the f-word with Seungcheol, but Seokmin’s mouth had always been too open, and his heart too big. It was a rough practice night; Soonyoung’s choreography had always been difficult and precise, but none of them were getting the hang of it this evening. Their movements had to be fast, graceful, delicate yet powerful, but they were none of these things as they fumbled around each other, Seungkwan falling over in the middle of Jisoo’s line in the second verse. 

“All right, take five,” Soonyoung called dejectedly, after most of them had collapsed before the end of the song. 

“Seungcheol-hyung,” He turned around, water bottle ready to to pour down his throat, to Seokmin standing sheepishly behind him. “When will we get to meet your baby?”

Seungcheol turned back around, closed his eyes, took a deep breath before turning back to Seokmin. “Due date is late September, so probably sometime after it’s born?”

Seokmin clasped his hands together under his chin, as if in prayer, and smiled. “It’s so exciting. I always wondered who’d be the first to become a father.”

Seungcheol’s blood turned to ice, and all he could do was turn around and walk toward the bathroom.

“Hyung?” 

Seungcheol slammed the door behind him, and fell to his knees on the floor, crawling to the toilet and vomiting. Whether or not he was ready, whether or not Minji wanted him to be involved, he lived with the knowledge that his own flesh and blood would be coming into existence, that a piece of him would be out there existing, sending the Choi-Kwon name out into the universe and continuing on his bloodline--oh gosh, he didn’t even know whose name the baby would take. 

With shaking knees, he got himself off the ground, flushed the toilet, rinsed out his mouth with tepid tap water, and took a few deep breaths. He walked back out into the practice room, where twelve young men stared back at him expectantly. He wiped a falling water droplet off his chin and cleared his throat.

“All right, back to work.”

As they arranged back into their opening formation, Seungcheol let his heart harden, blocked Minji’s sparkling brown eyes from his mind, tried to forget about the life she was growing inside her. If she doesn’t want the fetus to be his problem, then it wouldn’t be.

****

It was a humid night in early September when Seungcheol’s phone started buzzing incessantly at 3 AM. Jeonghan mumbled from across the room, swatting an arm at Seungcheol before he finally picked up his phone, squinting at the screen before answering.

“Cheol,” Minji’s voice was tight, and the fatigue gripping his brain promptly let go as he sat up in bed, rubbing a fist over his eyes.

“Minji? Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” The sound was muffled, like she was speaking through gritted teeth. “I’m in labor, though.”

He threw the blanket to the side, getting up and flinging the closet door open to find a pair of sneakers and a jacket. Jihoon groaned obscenities after being wakened, and Seungcheol flipped him off. “Which hospital are you at?”

While she gave an address in breathy, strained sentences, Seungcheol dug around for his wallet, ran a hand through his hair. Maybe he should pack a bag?

It was after he threw on the bedroom light to find his duffel that Jihoon threw a pillow at him from across the room. “Hyung. It’s three in the morning.”

Seungcheol didn’t respond, throwing t-shirts and underwear into a bag, digging under his bed to find an extra pair of jeans. Was he supposed to dress up for this type of occasion? He threw his nice pair of sneakers in just in case. 

“Seungcheol,” Jihoon snapped. He was out of bed now, running a hand through a mop of hair freshly dyed robin’s egg blue, and leaning against the end of Seungcheol’s bed. “What are you even doing at this hour?”

Jeonghan finally woke up, mouth stretched into a comically large yawn that Seungcheol would’ve laughed at if he wasn’t preoccupied. He blinked a couple times at Jihoon and Seungcheol before his eyes widened. “Is Minji in labor?”

Seungcheol nodded, his chest tight. His vision blurred, and Jeonghan was out of bed with an arm around Seungcheol before the first tear slid off his cheek. Jihoon let out a soft sigh, and took Seungcheol’s hand tenderly. He wasn’t exactly nervous; the baby wouldn’t have the mental capacity to place judgment on him, he had no responsibility to this child--in fact, he was surprised Minji called him at all--yet rationale left him as he sobbed in his best friends’ arms. He allowed himself to find comfort for a moment, before pulling away, running his shirt sleeve under his nose, and zipping up his duffel bag. He didn’t let Jeonghan or Jihoon tell the dorm where he went until they all woke up, and Seungcheol was already at the hospital. 

The two hour train ride to Daegu was excruciating, as Seungcheol received no further messages from Minji, and the sun smeared its rays across the sky, scraping the horizon first then spreading upward toward the day. Assuming the baby came soon, he couldn’t think of a lovelier morning to enter the world. 

He arrived at the city hospital just past 7 AM, giving the man at the desk a hushed greeting and a “Might you know where Kwon Minji’s delivery room is?”

“Ah,” He paused to look up her room number. “She just delivered, actually. You’ll have to wait until they finish cleaning up until you go in.”

“But I’m family.” The sentence came out with a lilt at the end, like a question, and the receptionist quirked an eyebrow at Seungcheol, and Seungcheol ran a hand through the front of his hair, letting out a sigh. “I’m the baby’s father. Choi Seungcheol, if she mentioned I was coming.”

He pursed his lips. “She didn’t say any family was coming. I can try calling the room and ask if you’re allowed up, but I can’t let you up this soon otherwise.” 

While he rang the nurse’s station, Seungcheol leaned forward, resting his head against the counter. The day was already too warm for September 14th, and he could feel little beads of sweat forming between his shoulder blades, under a too big t-shirt he stole from Mingyu. He was missing a fan meet today--Jeonghan texted him and told him that they would use ‘family situation’ as an excuse--and he didn’t know which was weirder, missing a day of work, or meeting his child for the first time.

“Choi Seungcheol,” He was roused from his thoughts, and he stood up straight. “She’s on the third floor, room seven.” Seungcheol nodded, and moved toward the elevator, head stuffed with cotton. 

The elevator smelled too clean, and his stomach knotted up as the elevator steadily rose and clicked through floors. Perhaps he should have brought flowers, or coffee--if Minji was allowed to have her usual, iced coffee with no milk and too many sugars--, if not to be polite, then to have something to do with his hands. 

The nurse at the desk buzzed him in, and his soft footsteps sent off too many echoes as he walked down the hall. The wing was essentially a sterilized nursery, and he couldn’t help but wonder how many families were starting new lives behind the closed doors that he passed. He heard soft coos, little shrieks, and the soft chatter of adults as they spoke to their children for the first time. Twenty four wasn’t an unreasonable age to become a father, but he felt like an overgrown baby, toddling his way toward an uncertain future.

The door opened before he even knocked, and a nurse gave him a small smile as she left the room holding a bundle of used towels. He didn’t get the chance to take a deep breath and prepare himself, as the nurse softly called over her shoulder, “She’s resting, but awake.” 

Minji looked smaller than normal, a deflated version of herself, though her stomach was still rounded from carrying. She offered Seungcheol a small, sleepy smile.

“Took you long enough.”

Seungcheol let out a hollow laugh, and sat in the chair next to the bed, taking her hand in his own. “I couldn’t even board a train until five. I waited at the station for an hour before they opened. You delivered quickly.”

She shrugged, mouth stretching into a yawn. “I started having contractions last night, around six. But I was still early so I didn’t call you until I knew. I was fully dilated when I called, but…” 

Her hand was still swollen, an IV resting atop her knuckles. Minji was only in the hospital one other time as children, when she got her tonsils out at 15. He wasn’t used to seeing her so tired, so subdued from her usual self. 

“They’re cleaning her up now. Cheol, she’s beautiful.”

She. A daughter. His eyes watered up, and Minji’s hand tightened around his own. 

They sat in silence for a while, hand in hand, Seungcheol rubbing small circles against her knuckles with his thumb. A nurse came in a few times to check on her IV, bring her a blanket, offer her coffee. 

Soon, not soon enough, a nurse wheeled a cart back in, and Seungcheol lost his breath. He looked at Minji expectantly, and her eyebrows furled. “You can pick her up; you don’t need my permission.”

The young woman stepped out of the way for Seungcheol, and before him was the tiniest, most beautiful baby. 

Seungcheol hadn’t held a baby in a couple years, not a brand new baby, anyway. She was wrapped in a white blanket with stuffed bears printed on it, and her teeny mouth kept opening and closing as she slept.

“I mean, she’s less than an hour old,” Minji said as Seungcheol came around, perching on the side of her bed. “But I think she looks like you. Look, she’s got your mouth.”

The tiny mouth he had just been examining did look familiar; her lips smushed into a pout much like Seungcheol’s when he slept. He ran a thumb over her lips with a feather light touch, and her nose crinkled involuntarily. There was a thick tuft of curly black hair atop her head, and Seungcheol had seen enough of Minji’s baby pictures to know that it came from her. Her head was still narrow from labor, her skin still red, but she was beautiful. 

Minji scooted over slightly so Seungcheol could sit on the bed with her, and he almost let himself pretend they were a typical set of young parents--the overexcited dad, the tired mom, the baby too cute for its own good. She started fussing, and Minji beckoned for her daughter, unbuttoning her gown so she could feed her and have skin-to-skin contact. Seungcheol looked away; there was nothing shameful about breastfeeding, but the moment was too tender, and he was jolted back to reality that this wouldn’t be his reality. 

The baby had been fed and lulled back to sleep when Minji finally broke the silence. “Her name is Siyeon, by the way. Choi Siyeon.”

Seungcheol looked down at the baby resting in his arms once again, and mouthed the name to himself. “My last name?”

Minji shrugged, resting her cheek against his shoulder. “Seemed appropriate, more traditional. Well, and I didn’t like Kwon Siyeon.”

“So I’m not involved, but my name is.”

Minji balled her fist and gently tapped his shoulder, careful not to jolt him too much or Siyeon, and he chuckled, a soft hollow sound with no real volume to it. 

“Why Siyeon though?”

“Just liked it, I guess.” 

From what he was able to glean from Minji, she’d had an epidural, as well as many sleepless nights leading up to the birth. Though she fought exhaustion, trying to joke with Seungcheol and hold conversation, she ended up falling asleep against him, head tucked into the crook of his neck. It was almost deja vu, if you rewinded 10 years and swapped out a sleeping baby for Minji’s puppy, replace the hospital bed with the couch in her parents’ family room, watching Beethoven Virus--her guilty pleasure, though she had slept through that nights’ episode. Minji would always be in his life in someway, in memories old or new. 

It was early afternoon now, and mom and baby had drifted in and out of sleep all day; Seungcheol was able to calm Siyeon when she was fussy, and, well, he had years of experience practicing patience with Minji’s snark. 

“Do your parents know?”

Seungcheol had been standing with Siyeon by the window, pointing out birds and cars to a child who wouldn’t conceptualize these things for another several months. 

“No. Maybe I’ll tell them when we have a break, in a couple months.” A pause fell over the room, and the sheets rustled as Minji got up to use the restroom. “Do your parents know?”

She froze at the doorway. “Cheol, I gave birth alone. What do you think?”

The door clicked behind her, and Seungcheol swallowed the knot rising in his throat.

****

After Minji and Siyeon were discharged to her tiny apartment just outside Daegu, Seungcheol went back to Seoul, and was greeted with a banner that read “Congrats on your baby boy”, although the letters “b o y” had been crossed out. 

“They were out of the baby girl banners,” Chan explained sheepishly. Seungcheol pulled him into a hug, kissing the top of his head. He had sent a picture of Siyeon yesterday in the groupchat, where Seungkwan responded with approximately 67 heart-eye emojis, the majority responded with their congratulations, and Minghao simply responded “ok”. 

Seokmin and Seungkwan were over the moon, more so than Seungcheol expected, and jokingly referred to him as ‘abeoji’ during their rehearsals. They were due for another comeback soon, near the end of October, though they only had a single lined up to satiate the music market, until Jihoon could write enough songs he was happy with for a whole album. Though he was uninvolved, Minji was still a good friend, and sent him pictures of Siyeon every once in a while; she was just a few weeks old, but she had already started growing and changing. His heart ached every time he received a picture of her dark brown eyes, framed with monolids just like her mom, and it took everything in him not to catch the next train back to Daegu to move in with Minji and watch his baby grow up, like he was supposed to. 

He didn’t regret having sex with her, necessarily; looking back, it wasn’t the best idea, seeing as how they were both a little tipsy, and having sex with your best friend of seventeen years wasn’t a typical bonding activity. However, they were both okay with the idea of casual sex, and neither had developed feelings for each other after the encounter. The regrets came in not being able to raise his child--Minji was a great mom, and any guy would be lucky to raise kids with her. He didn’t want Minji’s future husband to raise his daughter, though. He wanted to be able to take his children to school, to take them out for ice cream, to hold them when they cried, to kiss their cheeks while they were still young and unembarrassed by their fathers’ affection. Another man would be raising his firstborn, and it took everything in him not to scream during one of his mental spirals, in the middle of a fan meet, when a girl of 15 asked “Seungcheol oppa, how much do you want children?”

Soonyoung set a hand on his knee under the table, and Seungcheol forced a smile. 

“A lot. I want them a lot.”

Later that evening, Seungcheol laid on the couch while the rest of the boys watched tv, his head resting in Jeonghan’s lap. Seokmin had learned his boundaries; he hadn’t asked when he would get to meet Siyeon since she was born. Every time Seungcheol mentioned his band meeting Siyeon to Minji, she would change the subject, or stop responding to his texts all together. 

“Seungcheol hyung?” Minghao’s voice rose from the floor, and Seungcheol let out a grunt in acknowledgement. “We’re here for you, no matter what happens.”

Seungcheol smiled, and Jeonghan’s hands ceased moving through his hair as he sat up. “Where did that come from?”

Minghao shrugged. “You just seemed really down. I’m sure it sucks not to be with Siyeon, but you’re doing your best and we’re all really proud of you.”

Mingyu, Jun, and Seungkwan nodded, tearing their eyes away from the television to offer smiles of encouragement. 

Seungcheol ducked his head, staring at his hands folded in his lap. “Thank you, I appreciate it.” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. Jeonghan wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and Seungcheol leaned into him, head in the crook of his neck. It almost felt normal, sharing skinship with his friends while watching tv. 

He liked to think he would be all right, that Siyeon would fit in well, if given the chance to see her. He could almost picture it; Siyeon being passed to Jeonghan, who would tickle her until she smiled, passed to Mingyu, who would be so careful but so effortless in how he cared for her. Seokmin would probably take her right in, making goofy faces and planting soft kisses on her cheeks and Minghao would watch from a loving distance. Seungcheol smiled, taking Jeonghan’s free hand in his own, and Jeonghan accepted it. Maybe one day he'd be able to reconcile his families together; he'd tell his parents, Minji would be comfortable with him again, his boys would befriend her. One day, his worlds would collide and he would stand in the middle, enjoying the beautiful chaos. 

****

It was the week before their comeback in mid-October when they awoke to a pounding on the door at two in the morning. In the groggy recesses of Seungcheol’s mind, he recognized the soft creak of a mattress from the next room over, the click of a door opening, and soft footsteps receding toward the front door. Just as he started to relax again, his bedroom door slid  open, and Hansol was shaking his shoulder, forcing him to roll over and look him in the eyes.

“There’s someone at the door for you,” His voice was soft, his eyes wide with concern. He offered Seungcheol a hand, wrapping an arm around his shoulder as they made their way to the door. 

Standing in the entryway was Minji, tears filling her eyes, and Siyeon wrapped in a blanket in her arms. 

Hansol left them with a pat on his shoulder, offering a sad sort of half-smile to Seungcheol. 

“Jiji, what's going on?”

Minji shook her head, holding Siyeon out for Seungcheol to take. She had already gotten heavier, and was conscious enough to fuss at the transfer. He shushed her, kissing the top of her head, shifting her in his arms so he could wrap a crying Minji in his other arm. 

“Can’t do it, Cheol.” Minji whimpered into his shoulder.

“What? What can’t you do?” His voice was hushed, and Minji’s silent sobs racked through her body, sending her shoulders heaving into Seungcheol’s side. 

“Can’t be a mom. I can’t do this. I wasn’t ready. I don’t know why I kept her; this was all a mistake.” Her words, though slurred through tears, were still sharp enough to prick at Seungcheol’s heart, to send goosebumps racing up his arms.

Siyeon, already old enough to mirror expressions, sensed her mother’s tears and out of the corner of Seungcheol’s eye, started puckering up her mouth, her eyes squinting. If Siyeon started crying with Minji, Seungcheol would lose it.

“Minji, tell me what you need. I’ll do anything.” 

She sniffled, pulling away enough to peer into his eyes. “Take Siyeon. I can’t do this anymore--I won’t do this anymore.”

The sleeping girl in his arms felt so much heavier all of a sudden, and he found himself scrambling to hand her back, but Minji refused her. “Minji, I can still move in and help--”

“No,” She pulled away, wiping her nose on her coat sleeve. “I don’t want her at all.”

Seungcheol let out a bitter laugh, repositioning Siyeon so he was holding her to his chest. 

“Jiji, you were determined to keep her. You literally disowned your parents so you could be a mother. Now you don’t want her? You won’t accept my help, even though we could do this together, raise her together--”

“I’m trying to go to the states next year, get my masters degree. Your work is in Korea, and you know full well that you can’t just uproot your life and quit.” Her voice rose from hushed sobs to a voice filled with agitation. “How am I supposed to move a baby to another country and pursue a degree at the same time?” 

“How am I supposed to raise a baby?!” Seungcheol’s voice rose right alongside hers, and Siyeon let out a whimper. “If the government knew about the state of our bathroom, our dorm would have to be declared a public health crisis and be demolished.”

Minji rolled her eyes, but Seungcheol continued. “Minji, I’m serious. You’re right; I work and travel all the time and don’t have the ability to take in a baby.”

“Then how the hell did you expect to move in with me and raise her?” She shouted, and Seungcheol prayed to whatever deities that might be listening that the boys would stay asleep, that they wouldn’t hear any of this. “You know what? If you’re so willing to be a dad and take her in, like you talk about, then take her. Prove it.”

“Well, of course I want to raise her, but I want to raise her with her mother--”

“Get married then. I’m not doing this.”

Siyeon was awake now, staring at Seungcheol with her big doll eyes, and Seungcheol felt his heart growing soft again.

“Minji,” His voice was hushed again, full of longing. “You’re tired, you’re stressed. Get some sleep and we can talk about this in the morning. Siyeon needs better than this.”

Minji scoffed, pressing her hands to her eyes. “I know she deserves better. Why do you think I’m here? I saw how you reacted to her at the hospital; dads don’t usually react like that. No one can take care of her like you could.” Seungcheol reached out to her, but she rejected him, moving closer to the door. She set a light green bag on the floor, nudging it toward him with her foot. “If you really can’t take care of her, then give her up for adoption. But you’re connected with her, and I’d rather she have a fighting chance with someone I know will actually care about her.”

Minji clicked open the door behind her, moving quickly before Seungcheol could get closer. “If you do give her up for adoption, please don’t tell me. Please don’t contact me; I’ll message you when I’m ready. I need to spend some time sorting myself out.” 

He blinked, and the door had already slid shut. It took his body a moment to catch up with his brain, but he flung the door open, cradling Siyeon’s head from the wind, but she must’ve been running away, as she was nowhere to be seen.

He turned back, going inside. When he closed the front door behind him, twelve boys had gathered in the entryway, staring at Seungcheol with inquisitive eyes, and pitying smiles. It was Jeonghan’s eyes, his intuitive, knowing eyes that broke Seungcheol, and he hit the floor knees-first with a sob. 

Seungcheol was an ugly crier when he was truly heartbroken; fat, salty teardrops rolled down his cheeks and landed on the top of Siyeon’s head, and the more he tried to breathe through nostrils clogged with mucus, the more he blubbered and came undone. Jeonghan was around him almost instantly, arms squeezing his shoulders, and forehead pressed against the back of his skull. The rest of the boys backed up to give room to Seungcheol’s grief, to let his sobs echo in the tiny entryway uninterrupted. 

Seungkwan was uncharacteristically calm, given the situation. His posture was unassuming as he knelt in front of Seungcheol, offering him a half smile, and holding out his arms for Siyeon. Jeonghan pursed his lips, giving an almost imperceptible shake of the head to Seungkwan, but Seungcheol ignored Jeonghan, making sure her neck was supported as he passed her over. The running whimper Siyeon had been keeping up subsided as Seungkwan carefully stood, brushing the tears out of her hair, kissing her forehead gently and bouncing her as he removed himself from the crowd, toward the living room. 

Only Jeonghan, Jihoon, Hansol, and Jisoo stayed with him in the entryway, kneeling around him. Behind him, he could register that Jeonghan was silently crying with him. Jisoo had taken hold of both of his hands, and he whispered to himself--maybe praying?--, his hands gave reassuring squeezes every once in a while. 

As his sobs gradually subsided, and his breathing slowed, his new reality hit him. In the span of 20 minutes, he lost one of his best friends, and was tasked with raising a literal infant on his own. 

“You’re not alone in this. We’re here to do anything you need.” Hansol, self-sacrificing Hansol who could read thoughts and love without regrets. Seungcheol nodded, and shrugged Jeonghan off his shoulders. The air was muggy from his grief, and the front of his shirt was soaked from his tears. Seungcheol haphazardly swiped at his cheeks with his hands, and let out a nervous chuckle. 

“I just don’t want her to suffer, ya know? What kind of support will she get in a crowded dorm with a bunch of teen guys who regularly stay up into the night?” 

“She’s gonna have 13 kick-ass dads to take care of her.” Hansol spoke words of wisdom once more, lips slowly curving into a grin. 

“I'm sure that between all of us, she'll turn out fine. I'm sure there's enough good life lessons to learn from us.” Jihoon reassured, and Jisoo offered a reassuring smile. 

“You need to tell your parents, Cheol.” Jeonghan’s voice was soft behind him, barely a raspy whisper from the strain of empathetic grief. “They’ll understand. We’ll do everything we can to help raise Siyeon, but we can’t take her on tour, not this young.” Jeonghan squeezed his shoulders, resting his cheek against his shoulder blades. “And if you don’t want to tell them, you can tell my parents. They wouldn’t ask questions and would take good care of her.”

“Cheol,” Jisoo’s voice was measured, precise, quiet. “Do you even want to keep Siyeon?”

The air stagnated, as everyone held their breath. Seungcheol slowly nodded, releasing Jisoo’s hands. “Of course I want to keep her,” He swallowed the lump in his throat, lowered his eyes to meet his now idle hands resting in his lap. “I just don’t know if I can.”

That was their cue to get up, to offer Seungcheol hands to stand with, and they made their way out of the foyer, but not before each boy giving him a long hug.

In the living room, the rest of the band was the calmest that Seungcheol had ever seen them. Seokmin had Siyeon in his arms, eyes glinting with the promise of tears, a soft serene smile on his face. Minghao watched from behind, leaned over the back of the couch, shy smile crawling its way onto his lips. Minghao had always been so shy around children, scared of breaking them, or being a bad role model. Seungcheol so badly wanted that to change, wanted Minghao to share his humor and wisdom with Siyeon without fear. 

Siyeon got passed along to Mingyu, who placed the softest of kisses against her forehead. He stood with her, gently walking around and bouncing ever so slightly to keep her calm. Mingyu looked up as he caught sight of Seungcheol, and walked to meet him, where he stood frozen in the doorway with the others behind him. 

“She’s so perfect, Cheol hyung.” Mingyu whispered. “Look at her lashes, long like yours.” Seungcheol hadn’t noticed her lashes before; they were long and dark, like his, framing eyes like her mother’s, cloaked in warm brown like his. He could compare and contrast forever--his lips, her nose, his sleepy face, her hair. He would never stop finding pieces of him, pieces of Minji, in Siyeon. 

Mingyu offered her to Seungcheol, but he shook his head, leaning his head against Mingyu’s shoulder and watching him interact with Siyeon instead. Maybe it was the liminal space of the living room again, messing with his emotions so late at night, so early in the morning. Whatever it was, he knew he would be okay, raising his daughter on his own. He wasn’t alone; Hansol was right when he said that Siyeon would have thirteen kick-ass dads. Even now, just meeting her, they all loved her as much as Seungcheol did. He would be okay. 

More importantly, Siyeon would be okay, and that was all Seungcheol needed to know.

****

Surprisingly, Seungcheol’s parents weren’t upset with him. Perhaps a little disappointed that he didn’t end up marrying Minji, but they were overall calm, even excited about becoming grandparents. The Choi’s met their grandchild the next week, and they showed Seungcheol around their newly baby-proofed home, to ease any anxieties. 

“We’ve even had a pillow between us for a week so we could remember how to cosleep,” His mother joked with him. Cosleeping had been a nightmare, as Seungcheol was perpetually terrified of rolling over and smothering Siyeon. He’d moved his mattress out to the living room so that her cries in the middle of the night wouldn’t wake Jeonghan and Jihoon, but he still heard Soonyoung muttering about waking up throughout the night when she cried, when he thought Seungcheol couldn’t hear him. Having Siyeon with his parents would be good for all of them, so they could focus on their comeback, so they could feel like their own age for a few days.

Despite the fact that he loved and trusted his parents like none other, he still hated leaving Siyeon on her own. She was just over a month old, but had already changed so much. She liked to squeal and kick in response to music, and while Jihoon didn’t lose all rhyme or reason around Siyeon like Seokmin did, he liked to keep her on his lap when he mixed tracks, not minding when she kicked a little too hard, or hit him in the face with a flying fist. Maybe Jihoon was lying to please Seungcheol, but he claimed that she squealed most whenever Jihoon mixed his verses. 

The Choi’s practically had to drag him back on the train to Seoul to work on their comeback, promising to send him pictures every day. Maybe this was him finding his footing in fatherhood, fretting unnecessarily about his daughters’ wellbeing. 

Comeback promotion was hell. Every minute he was away from his phone was torture, his dance moves were messed up because he was thinking about Siyeon. If postpartum depression was possible in fathers, he knew he would have it. While the majority of his band was supportive, and tried to comfort him, Jun and Soonyoung were distant, quieting themselves or even leaving the room whenever Siyeon came up, giving uninterested responses when Seungcheol sent pictures of her to the group chat.

It was easier back in the dorm, when he had her back. It had been a fitful night, with Siyeon being fussy, and she simply wouldn’t calm down, meaning neither of them got sleep.

“You can’t keep everyone awake, baby.” Seungcheol whispered, rubbing a hand gently on her tiny belly. Siyeon hesitated her fussing, staring at him with big, watery eyes. Teardrops were caught in her long lashes, drool spilling out of the corners of her mouth. She considered what he said before her mouth screwed up tightly, her eyes scrunched shut, and he felt her belly expand into a deep breath before her mouth opened and she let out an ear piercing shriek. 

“Shh, shh, shh,” Seungcheol sat up from the mattress, scooping Siyeon into his arms and rocking her carefully. Her fussing turned into sobs, and he had tried feeding her, changing her, rocking her, but this was simply looking to be a rough night. It was mid-November, too cold to take her outside and walk her around. Still, he stood up, holding her close to his chest, and paced as quietly as he could around the living room. 

Behind him, a door clicked open, and out stepped Jun, eyes squinted shut from fatigue.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong--”

Jun waved him off, walking past him to the kitchen, where he opened a cabinet, pulled out a glass, and turned on the tap. He downed an entire glass before refilling and taking small sips.

“She might have colic. My little brother had it when he was about her age.”

Seungcheol shook his head. “I don’t think that’s it. It’s not consistent, or anything--”

“Did you burp her before you last fed her?”

“Yes, of course.”

Jun shrugged, taking another sip. “Could just be a rough night.”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes, shifting Siyeon to his other arm so his other ear could get acclimated to her cries. “Why do you hate her?”

Jun frowned, taking another sip. “Where did you get that idea?”

Seungcheol bit his lip. “You’re just really distant. You’ve never been super fond of her. I hear you and Soonyoung whispering about how annoying she is. It just really hurts.”

Jun shook his head, setting down his glass of water. “Just because I’m not constantly fussing over her doesn’t mean I don’t care.” He swiped a hand at his upper lip, wiping away the water droplets. “I can’t speak for Soonyoung, obviously, but I’m not annoyed by her. I mean, I miss getting sleep, but I can’t complain. This is just the reality we have right now.”

Seungcheol nodded, and Siyeon’s sobs stopped, just for a moment. Jun took another sip of water, before setting his glass down, and running a finger along Siyeon’s cheek.

“Have you thought about getting your own place?”

Seungcheol shrugged, and Jun held out his arms, beckoning for Siyeon. She had stopped sobbing, but still fussed, and Jun rocked her, making his way back to the living room, and Seungcheol followed. He set her down on the mattress, and took one of the smaller blankets from the pile Seungcheol covered himself with, smoothing it out before transferring Siyeon on top of it, and tucking it neatly around her until she resembled a tightly-wrapped ssambap. He picked her up once more, rocking her gently while sitting cross-legged on Seungcheol’s mattress, and she was calm.

“Jun, how--”

“My mom used to do this to calm down my brother. Something about mimicking the pressure of the womb, creating a calm environment that’s familiar.” Siyeon stretched her mouth open wide into a yawn, and Seungcheol saw the slightest hint of a smile tugging at Jun’s lips. Seungcheol sat on his knees to face Jun, and Jun finally looked up to meet Seungcheol’s eyes.

“I’m sorry if you got the impression that I don’t like Siyeon, I really am. And yeah, I probably have complained more than I should, given the circumstances. I haven’t been fair to you--or Siyeon--and I’m sorry.” 

Siyeon was quiet now, eyes relaxing and fluttering open and shut. Jun scooted off the mattress and onto his knees, handing her back to Seungcheol. “I only asked about moving out for Siyeon’s sake, by the way,” Jun called as he walked back to his room. “She’s a great addition to our team, but this isn’t the best place for her to grow up. We aren’t the most family friendly atmosphere, with Mingyu and Jisoo’s wine nights and all.”

Seungcheol nodded absentmindedly. He had been considering finding his own place for Siyeon’s sake, but there were too many factors, and it was too late to think about it tonight.

“Is it safe for her to sleep in this?”

Jun nodded, halfway through the door. “I’ll show you how to wrap it yourself tomorrow.”

The door clicked behind Jun, and Seungcheol turned his eyes back to a now-sleepy Siyeon, face relaxed and more angelic than she had been all night. 

What Jun had said rattled in his brain, even after he’d tucked himself in next to Siyeon, and closed his eyes in hopes of sleep. What would be best for Siyeon? Having a father who could work full-time and provide for her would mean staying in the dorm, where he could plan concepts for future comebacks, and mediate through any conflict. Giving her a safe space to grow and learn would mean moving. Half of the band could barely care for themselves, let alone child-proof their lives for a literal infant. 

Seungcheol let out a deep sigh, turning over onto his side, facing Siyeon. Her nostrils flared when she breathed, in, out. He couldn’t wait for her first birthday, first day of school, first bite of kimchi. Though he was exhausted, he couldn’t wait until tomorrow morning, when she would babble at the sound of his voice. Seungcheol smiled, closing his eyes to ready himself for the day ahead of him.

****

“I’m looking at houses,” Seungcheol threw out at the tail end of a group meeting one night. They had been better at reigning meetings in earlier, so everyone could get in a fair amount of sleep around Siyeon.

Siyeon was in Minghao’s arms, and he looked up from her smiling eyes to be present with everyone else. It was nearly Christmas, and she had a red ribbon in her hair, gifted by Minghao. It had taken time and several conversations with Seungcheol, but he finally set aside his fears and warmed up to Siyeon. Under Jun’s guidance, he could even change and feed her. 

“Hyung?” Chan furrowed his brows. “You’re just...just moving out, right?”

“Oh! Oh yes, I’m still in the band.” Seungcheol reassured, making sure to meet everyone's eyes. “But I think we can all agree that the current living arrangement isn’t really fair to any of us, especially Siyeon.”

“How are you going to take care of her by yourself?” Jeonghan asked, the weight of a frown pulling on the front of his eyebrows.

“My parents are gonna move in.” Seungcheol responded, nodding his head. “It’s a little soon, but I’ve been saving up for a house for them anyway, so I’m looking for a place that’s somewhat close to the dorm, for all of us.”

The room was almost silent, the only noise coming from Siyeon’s soft chatter as she reached up to tug on Minghao’s hair. 

“We’re gonna miss you, hyung.” Soonyoung was quiet, and his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “We’re gonna miss both of you.”

Soonyoung, sweet Soonyoung, who finally started holding Siyeon and jumping over fire to meet her needs. He quickly went blurry around the edges, and Seungcheol blinked quickly, hoping his tears would stay put just a little while longer. 

“We’ll still be close; all of the houses I’m looking at are no more than a 15 minute walk. We can still hang out, we’ll still have our practices and meetings.” Seungcheol paused, letting out a chuckle. “We can still have our bar hops, but I’ll have to be sober enough to walk home, is all.”

The room was quiet once again, pregnant with thought. Siyeon started fussing--her hungry cry, Seungcheol recognized--, and Soonyoung hopped up, heading toward the kitchen. 

“She takes five ounces, right hyung?” He called, clamoring in the cupboards for a clean bottle.

“Yeah, that should be enough.” Seungcheol responded. Jun and Mingyu had scooted their way toward Minghao to watch Siyeon over his shoulders, while Hansol tapped Minghao’s knee, and Minghao reluctantly passed her along, but not before kissing her temple. Soonyoung came back with a bottle, and it was almost a group activity just to watch her eat. Mingyu chastised Hansol when he didn’t think her head was being supported enough, Jisoo wiped any milk droplets with his sleeve, and Jun stroked her cheek, whispering words of encouragement. 

This was his family. Hansol wasn’t lying when he said they would all help raise her; even Minghao and Soonyoung warmed up to her and did what they could to help. Wonwoo had started reading to her at bed time, and while he claimed it was because “she needed to grow up on proper literature”, he always paused when she babbled in response to his low rumbling voice, returning her gummy smiles with big smiles of his own. 

“Hyung?” Wonwoo had scooted away from the baby circle, next to his side. His voice was soft, his tone serious. “Will we be able to come over and see Siyeon whenever?”

Seungcheol melted. He didn’t know what was making him tear up most, the gaggle of barely-twenty year olds scrambling over each other to feed a baby, Wonwoo asking to see the baby whenever, or maybe just the Christmas cheer. Seungcheol had everything he ever wanted--his families coming together, finding room in their hearts for each other. 

“At least ask my parents first, Wonwoo.”

****

“Abeoji! Abeoji, it’s almost time!” Siyeon’s shrieks filled the kitchen in the early March morning, and Seungcheol smiled at her over his cup of coffee, his mother desperately trying to get her to sit still so she could braid her hair. Her hair grew thick and curly, much like Minji’s, but even four short years grew her and shaped her, letting more of Seungcheol’s features display their dominance on her tiny face. She had his jaw, his high cheekbones, his full, straight brows--paired with Minji’s stubbornness, and Siyeon was set to be a force to be reckoned with. 

She was soft now though, giggling as her grandmother pinched her cheek and admonished her to sit still. Seungcheol was so grateful for his parents’ help; his mother was probably the best female role model Siyeon could’ve had in her life, and his father passed down paternal wisdom, wisdom that wasn’t supposed to be necessary for a few more years, but came in handy as Siyeon grew into a headstrong child. 

“You need to eat, Siyeon,” Seungcheol prodded as she bolted from the kitchen chair the second the last braid was tied, and ran to get her coat.

“But I want to get to school!” Her voice bordered on a whine, and Seungcheol was thrown back 20 years, when Minji would fight her parents to play with Seungcheol just a little longer after dinner. She definitely got punished, as she stomped her foot and whined, and she never got her way. Seungcheol wouldn’t cave to Siyeon’s whines, but would hopefully channel her determination into something greater than herself, into her dreams and goals.

“You’ll get to school once you eat; I’ll walk you myself, but you need to eat first.”

Siyeon’s mouth constricted into a pout, and Seungcheol’s father opened his mouth, as if to chastise her, but Seungcheol beat him to it.

“Siyeon,” He knelt down to meet her eyes. “Things in life will happen as they happen. You know what that means?”

Siyeon was still petulant, but shook her head no, relaxing her lips and uncrossing her arms. 

“It means you’ll get to school, whether you leave now or after you eat. But you need to eat first, that’s not an option. And you need to thank your halmeoni for braiding your hair.”

Siyeon slowly nodded, turning to face Seungcheol’s mother.

“Thank you, halmeoni.” She said sheepishly, clasping her hands and bowing. 

The corners of her mouth turned up, just slightly. “You’re welcome.”

Siyeon managed to sit still long enough to eat an acceptable amount of food in Seungcheol’s mind, and she sat on the edge of her seat until he gave his blessing to get her coat “with walking feet, Siyeon!”

It was a brisk March day, the sun just newly risen, and the street bathed in a soft golden glow. It was a short walk to the kindergarten, and Siyeon all but skipped down the sidewalk, only held back from flying into the grass by Seungcheol’s firm hand holding hers. 

She was so much like Minji, so headstrong and full of energy. Though it hurt to see pieces of her everyday in his own flesh and blood, he wouldn’t wish those pieces away for anything. Hopefully he could help her grow into a better person, to make better decisions.

“Is she off to kindergarten as well?” A father, a good few years older than Seungcheol waved from the front of his house as they passed by, a little boy next to him dressed in a similar uniform. 

Seungcheol nodded, and the man and his boy joined them on the sidewalk. Siyeon immediately waved to the boy, and he clutched the fabric of his fathers’ pants, who promptly shrugged him off.

“This is Jihyun. Won’t you say hello, Jihyun?” Jihyun waved, just for a second, and immediately resumed his solemn stature. The father shook his head ever so slightly, lips pursed. Seungcheol saw himself in Jihyun, saw Minji in Siyeon, and felt something bubbling deep in the pit of his stomach.

Still, he made small talk as they walked together, Siyeon chatting the ear off Jihyun the whole way. While he didn’t speak the whole way, he eventually smiled in response to her, and once they reached the school, Seungcheol leaned down to hug her, and she threw her arms around his neck with wild abandon.

“Be good, Siyeon.” 

She nodded her head, beaming a Minji-esque smile at him, and running up the steps of the school. 

Seungcheol was turning away to walk to the dorms, and the father--he had already forgotten his name--called out to him. 

“Do you think our kids could walk together, since we live so close? They seem to like each other.”

The feeling in Seungcheol’s stomach reared its head and he offered a polite smile. 

“Perhaps. But let’s not force anything, we’ll see if the friendship develops first.”


End file.
